Picture Perfect
by suspensegirl
Summary: Just a possibility of how CB's pics could've ended up in their rooms... one-shot


A/N: Okay, this little CB oneshot is inspired by a particular little comment on a pic noticed in a still for 3x12. In Chuck's "office" or whatever, there's a pic of him and Blair – essentially from the cast photo-shoot (the one seen during the CB promos at the end ;p *hopes this is the same for every country XD*). I was inspired to write a fic from it. This'll probably be really short – though you never know with me XD. The general idea was that Chuck put the pic there on his desk, but a fellow LJ-er **(emmyniem)** suggested B put it there and Chuck loved it. This is dedicated to them. ;)

*Enjoy, please review, and no, I still don't own anything. *pouts*

P.S. This takes place sometime in S3. Maybe pre-3x12 since there was essentially not any drama then. XD Just carefree & fluffy! ;p

* * *

Just another day at the office.

It was just in his suite, really, but there was desk and there was paper he should probably fill out. Thus, another day at the office. Chuck sighed, making his way over to the desk and pulling one of the drawers out to gather out an additional file when he spotted _it_. In a silver frame at the center of his desk was a picture of his beautiful Blair and himself at their most recent perfect photo shoot – they were the most famous, ritzy couple after all. _Obviously_.

_Oh B…_

He smirked, just thinking about how she must've taken the time to pick out the classiest frame and the most elegant photograph. Blair Waldorf was nothing if not perfection personified, and only the same could be said of her handiwork. She did learn from the best, after all.

_Dorota had been ever willing to pack all of 'Miss Blair's' things, but 'Miss Blair' insisted on packing the majority of it for need of proper organization. Dorota had learned well on how to pack all of her lady's items, but still Blair insisted. She did give up after about an hour however, and the maid was more than happy to comply with the young Waldorf's wish for some 'extra aid' or take over all together rather. _

_ "Miss Blair?" the maid asked a half-hour following, having packed up the remains of Blair's essentials – meaning practically everything, a good third of it at least. That was how she had her things divided. One third of her things were in her own penthouse, another third at Chuck's place, and the remaining third at her soon-to-be dorm. _

_ "Hmm?" the brunette asked, turning to her maid in the midst of choosing which dress she'd wear for the day. The woman just pointed to what sat upon the single unzipped bag on Blair's bed. It seemed she could not even form words for what sat there. Blair's eyebrows fused, and she walked over to the puzzled woman. Sitting there on the top of the open suitcase lie a picture of her Chuck Basstard encased in a smooth silver frame. She smiled and picked up the frame, her fingers sliding over the curves of his face and the scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. He wasn't even looking at the camera and she wondered how the photo had even been shot._

_ It must've been in junior year, she thought. His hair simply was never cut in that way the year following. _

_ "Miss Blair…?" the maid asked, even __**more**__ unsure of herself than she had been before. "What shall I—"_

_ "I'll take care of it, Dorota. You can go."_

_ The maid nodded her head briefly and made to leave the room when she heard her lady call to her one last time just as she reached the door._

_ "Find me a headband. One to go with the red dress that's hanging third from the left in my closet."_

_ "Yes, Miss Blair," the woman said, not even glancing in the direction of the closet. She had perfectly memorized the girl's wardrobe from the moment each perfectly designed piece of clothing had been purchased. The door closed behind her as she left. There were more headbands stored in the next room, and she knew the one that would match the red dress, and the white purse Blair was sure to choose, in that neatly designated sector._

_ Blair smiled warmly at the photograph and held it close against her chest just before turning to look at the dress. She placed the picture in a safely wrapped compartment amidst her clothes in the suitcase, and zipped it shut._

_ "You Basstard…"_

_ Later when her limo arrived, Chuck was standing there beside it, his hands stuck in his pockets and a smile plastered thick against his face. Her eyes twinkled when she saw him, and she giggled as she walked towards him. She kissed him hard and fast on the lips as soon as she was within reach. His arm snaked around her waist instinctively, and she could tell he had been surprised when his fingers clenched into the fabric of her dress. A shiver ran up her spine at the proof of her effect on him._

_ "Hello to you too," he murmured against her lips. Her eyes danced when she looked at him, and he cocked an eyebrow. She just continued to look at him in the most absolutely adoring nature and he could not place a finger on what had made her so happy. _

_It simply couldn't be __**just**__ the fact of him coming to see her off to NYU, he thought. _

"_What?" he asked. She shook her head a little._

"_You're so sweet, you Basstard."_

_He smirked. So, she had found it._

"_I had to make sure you didn't forget me, Waldorf."_

_She rolled her eyes and then nuzzled her face against his, wrapping her arms around her neck. "You know I never could, Bass." _

_He smiled against her._

"_But who took the picture?" she asked quizzically._

"_What?" he asked, confused now himself._

"_Who took it?" she asked again. "You're not looking at the camera."_

"_Oh," he chuckled. "That."_

_She raised her eyebrows in amusement._

"_Eric."_

"_Eric?" she asked aghast._

"_Eric," he nodded, amused now as well. "And I wouldn't believe it till after the Van der Bass wedding, but apparently I was looking at you in hurt and want." He shook his head. "Ridiculous really, I thought. But apparently he couldn't miss the opportunity" He smirked, incredibly tempted to roll his eyes._

"_But you were," she acknowledged. _

_His eyes focused in on hers. "Most definitely. Even in my immature anger and need for revenge, I still wanted you. I still loved you." _

_She sighed into him and wrapped her arms tighter around his neck. "And now?" she asked._

"_Now I look at you in need, and with a love I never could've imagined before."_

_Her lips parted in the true sentimentality that wouldn't have ever been caught dead on Chuck Bass's normally predictable demeanor. She smiled warmly again and lowered her eyes to his lips. He inclined his head and she captured them on instant, weaving her fingers through his hair._

"Chuck, I was wondering if—"

He looked up to the beautiful brunette that had just interrupted his pleasant memory. Her eyes zoned into the picture he was holding in his hand and she swallowed hard. It had been spur of the moment and an act of gratitude for the picture he had so lovingly placed in her suitcase – secretly given into the care of Dorota beforehand.

She didn't really know how he would react, or if he would even approve. She couldn't speak now, and his face was unreadable. She swallowed hard.

"I…uh…just wanted to know if you wanted to go out to lunch," her eyes flicked back to his. He smirked at her attempt to dismiss what she had so cleverly placed on his "office desk". He walked to her slowly.

"I see you uh…put a little present on my desk for me."

Her nerves washed away when she saw the twinkle in his eyes, and the complete admiration. She wondered if it was the same look she had given him before, and if he admired the same intention that had driven him. She didn't want him to forget her, forget them. As if he really could with her being around him nearly every moment she had free.

She took a step towards him, the beginning of a smile now gracing _her_ face. "Just returning the favor," the smile spread, as she straightened the tie in its perfect knot at the base of his neck.

He closed the distance between them and placed the frame on the desk beside him – just within reach. Both his hands rested snugly on her hips, squeezing gently with a hint of desire. "I love it," he whispered against her, loving the feel of her arms wrapping around his neck that followed.

She had hardly realized, but there were still remnants of how he would react to her bold (?) move. Now she was completely relieved though, and he could tell by the soft exhale that he felt against his neck.

"I mean, how could I not absolutely love getting to stare at you the few moments you're not actually with me?"

She giggled against him, and he brought his back just enough to kiss her softly on the lips. She moaned and he found it hard to pull back, though eventually doing so.

"Lunch still?" he inquired, his forehead immovable from her own. The vanilla-lavender perfume she always wore was intoxicating, and so completely Blair Waldorf.

His lover nodded against him, and her smile grew at the hardly noticeable grumble that emanated from him. He never complained in response to any request she offered up to him. And the moment was so beautifully intimate, she didn't want to break away from it either.

But her stomach had been making noises for the last hour and a half and she figured it was time to eat. That and the fact that a growl from his own stomach interrupted the silence that was his wait for her answer.

They both laughed.

"A quick one," she said.

* * *

A/N: Awesome. Lol. I'm really proud of this actually. Pure fluff. Yay! Lol. Please review! ;D


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